The Writings of Greasers
by The Muse of Deduction
Summary: What happens when you get a bunch of boys from the East Side that would rather claw out their eyes than admit their feelings? What about when you give them some paper and a pen? A series of letters from our favourite gang.
1. Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,

I really don't know what to say. There isn't much _to_ say to you two. But I felt the need to write this letter, with the looming threat of dying and everything, so here it goes.

I never hated you. Never have, never will. No matter how many times you beat me or yelled at me, I never felt hate; only hurt. Do you even know I killed a boy? I killed a Soc because him and his friends tried to drown Ponyboy, and were going to kill me too. I didn't even mean to, all I knew was that Ponyboy was going to die, and I would too if I didn't do anything. So I killed him with my switchblade. Bet you didn't even know I owned one, huh?

Did you even notice I was gone? I was gone for five days. The gang missed me. I know you both didn't though; a friend told me so. I'm your son, and you didn't even care that I suddenly went missing?! The church where we were hiding was set on fire from a cigarette while we were out. It could've been mine or Ponyboy's, but it didn't matter. There were kids in that church. All I knew was that Ponyboy ran in and that I would never forgive myself if I didn't help save them. I told Ponyboy to get out first after we got the kids out. I was a little late; a piece of timber from the roof hit my back. If it wasn't for Dally, I would've burned along with the church.

That's how I ended up here, in the hospital. The gang all visited me, talked to me, asked me how I felt. The doctor told me if I survived I would be crippled. That would mean I'd be stuck in the house with the two of you. Stuck with yelling and beating. I remember you tried to visit me Mom, and I said no. I'm glad I did. You would've just shouted at me for my stupidity, that I should've let the kids and Ponyboy die. I'm glad it's me in the hospital instead of Ponyboy, or any one of those little kids. It was worth it, just to see all those happy parents visiting me, thanking me for saving their kids.

It hurts that you both don't care about me, but I don't care either. The gang cares about me, and I care about them. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die, maybe today while everyone's at the big rumble against the Socs. I still don't know why I wrote this, maybe as a way to give you two a goodbye you don't deserve to hear. Goodbye.

From,

Johnny Cade~ A Proud Greaser

**. . .**

**I wrote this for an L.A assignment and thought I'd post it. Thoughts? Should I make a series of letters from all characters? Reviews are nice.**


	2. No Forgiveness

**A/N: Hello! I finally decided to pick this up again. Bear with me though; it's been a while since I've read the book, and I'm still trying to find my own copy. Anyways, review and enjoy!**

**. . .**

Dear Ponyboy,

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Ponyboy. I didn't mean to hit you, I would _never_ hit you. It just . . . happened. It was a mistake, an accident. Maybe if I didn't do that, if I had just controlled myself, none of this would have happened. . .

I didn't mean to make you run away, I never wanted that to happen. It's just that you have a future ahead of you; a good one. You won't end up like me or Sodapop. You're smart. And it irritates me when you don't use your head because you've got a good one. I have to push you, treat you differently than Soda.

So that you won't end up as a drop out or working so much you don't have time for anything else. I want a better life for you.

I don't know, I suppose you remind me of all the things I could have done but didn't get the chance to. I want to make sure you have opportunities, that you can do what you want without having to worry about a price tag. I want to be able to let you go to college if you want to. I don't want you to miss out on everything I did.

Now I don't know where you are. Dally knows, I'm sure of it, but he won't say a word. I've failed. I've failed Mom, I've failed Dad, I've failed Soda, I've failed the gang, and I've failed you most of all Ponyboy. I failed you as a brother and caregiver.

I can't say anything that can justify what I've done. I care about you Ponyboy, you're my brother, of course I love you. I know I don't show it enough, but I do. I've failed you and nothing I can say will get you to forgive me. How can you, when I can't forgive myself?

I don't deserve to be forgiven.

Maybe one day you'll see this letter. Maybe when I'm long gone and you're looking through my stuff with Soda. You just might see it without me knowing, I don't know.

Please, just come home. Come home Ponyboy. I'll try to be better, just come back to us.

From,

Darry Curtis


	3. Forgive Yourself

**A/N: Hello everyone! Anyways, this letter is a reply to the last one. Tell me what you think in a review!**

**. . .**

Dear Darry,

I saw the letter you wrote when I disappeared. Man, you really were worried, weren't you? More than I thought you'd be and a hell lot more than you seemed to be. Even when you cried.

Now that I'm older, I understand what you meant. I want to thank you Darry; I am where I am today because of you. So, thank you. Thank you so much.

I'm sorry about what happened to you. You sacrificed everything for Soda and I. Sometimes I just seemed to forget that. But you seem happy now, with the wife and three little troublemakers.

You never failed me Darrel Curtis. Don't you dare say that ever again – don't you even think it – or else I'll have to find you and smack you upside the head. And Sodapop will help too, I'm sure of it. You didn't fail me, you didn't fail the gang, and you certainly didn't fail Mom and Dad.

Darry, you beat yourself up so much. Less now since we're all grown up, but still. You raised us, you made sure we stuck together. Nothing could make them happier, knowing their boys were together and looking out for each other. You never could fail them Darry.

Look at who I am today Darry. I have a wife, I have a wonderful son with another little bundle of joy on the way. I have a good job, I'm happy. I might've never gotten here if it wasn't for you.

And one more thing; forgive yourself.

Don't you dare try to lie to me. I see it sometimes in the way you look at me, that you still feel guilty. Well, don't. It wasn't your fault.

You never failed the gang. It wasn't your fault that Johnny died, or Dally. They both, in their own way, chose their way to go. They don't regret it. So stop blaming yourself. Just stop.

I don't blame you Darry. I care about you too, you're my brother.

I. Forgive. You.

So stop beating yourself up. And don't you dare talk about kicking the bucket ever again. I **mean **it.

From,

Ponyboy Curtis

P.S – Two-Bit is arranging a bit of a camping trip. Make sure the lot of you show up, alright? Steve and Soda are coming with their families too.

**. . .**

**So, if you couldn't tell, this is in the future. What do you think? Also, do you want me to write a separate story about everyone growing up? Let me know in a review!**


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